


Wake Up, Sunshine

by Mxxnlit



Series: Tell Me Pretty Lies [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Communication Failure, Domestic, Established Relationship, M/M, Mild Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Miscommunication, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27989538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mxxnlit/pseuds/Mxxnlit
Summary: Akaashi needs to be needed, needs to be told he’s needed.Kuroo doesn’t need Akaashi, or at least he doesn’t need him to take care of his problems, but he wants Akaashi, and shouldn’t that mean something too?
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Kuroo Tetsurou
Series: Tell Me Pretty Lies [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1730530
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	1. Sleeping In

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! I took a hiatus due to school and other non-writing projects but I’m back I think! This chapter is exceedingly short but the next will be Akaashi’s viewpoint and beyond, so much longer if you’re willing to stick around that far! As always there's a playlist you can listen to [Here](%E2%80%9C)

Darkness greets bleary eyes as they blink away the remnants of sleep. Kuroo listens, still half aware, for any sign of what woke him so long before his alarm. A rustle points towards the other side of the room, the gentle catch of the drawer sliding shut confirms. “Keiji,” he mumbles, a yawn distorting the second syllable, “what time is it?” The intensity of Akaashi’s attention is palpable as ever as it turns on Kuroo, heavy as he gazes through the dark. 

“Early, you can go back to sleep,” Akaashi replies, soft and steady. He reaches over the edge of the bed to pet a hand lightly through Kuroo’s bedhead. 

Kuroo blinks, the sleep leaving his eyes more and more as he adjusts to the dark waking world. He sees Akaashi fully dressed in his work clothes, surreptitiously checking the bedside clock on the nightstand. “You’re going? It’s so early, come back to bed.” 

Kuroo’s puppy-dog eyes have never worked well against Akaashi, who had grown callous to such tactics by close contact with Bokuto’s admittedly better version, but he attempts them anyways and is granted a small smile for his efforts. “My deadline was moved up, I’ll call you in a few hours.”

Kuroo grumbles, though all he gets is a pat on the head and the blanket tucked back around him. “See you tonight, Tetsu.” And with that, Akaashi leaves, resigning the room back to silent darkness. Kuroo rolls to look up at the ceiling, wondering why this keeps happening. Darkness engulfs him once more. 

Kuroo wakes sometime later to a lighter sky and a blaring alarm, the bed long cold beside him. He sighs as he sits up, running fingers through his untameable bedhead. Here’s to another Tuesday morning greeted alone, despite all wishes that it could instead be a Friday night, a time when he could instead nearly guarantee some quality lazing time with his fiancé. Wishes or no, there’s work to do; he swings his legs over the bedside and stretches. 

The apartment is quiet as he feeds the cat and heads for the shower, it’s almost lonely. Scratch that, it  _ is  _ lonely. Maybe tonight it won’t be. 

-X-

Kuroo fumbles open the lock of their apartment after another dull day. He calls out a greeting, unsurprised to find it answered only by Jiji’s meows, until it isn’t. A soft “welcome home” joins the louder meow a second later, Kuroo straightens. 

“Keiji?”

His bespectacled fiancé comes into view, “Tetsurou.” Akaashi avoids his gaze, and he fidgets with his fingers in a long familiar pattern, something is bothering him, something must’ve been bothering him for a while. Something’s gone wrong. Well, he knew that, has known that for days, but maybe now Keiji is ready to speak about it.

He isn’t ready, he doesn’t speak, and so Kuroo let’s it pass. Instead Keiji says, “I made dinner, why don’t you go wash up while I plate?”

Having already toed off his shoes and crossed the genkan, Kuroo sets down his briefcase by the wall and sweeps forward. A peck lands on Akaashi’s cheek with a hum and a hand at the back of his neck before the newly energized tornado whirls off to wash up as suggested. 

Kuroo scrubs off the dirt of the day quickly, a glint in his eyes above a trademark grin as he changes. He strolls back into the kitchen and is greeted with a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I missed you,” he says. 

Akaashi doesn’t answer outright, doesn’t say it back, but his ears turn pink as he looks away, even as he tucks himself closer. The embrace lasts a moment, far less than Kuroo would prefer, before Akaashi steps back and lifts the last of the dishes into his hands. 

They sit across from each other, looking across steaming dishes, feet bumping awkwardly beneath them, as a stilted silence surpasses the clink of tableware. “How’d it go with your deadline today? You said it was moved up…?”

Akaashi nods, “yes, one of the monthly serializations is getting switched over to biweekly, everyone in the project has been busy with it lately. It was supposed to release next issue, but somewhere in the pipeline it was moved up to this one. We finished what we needed to do, in my department at least. How about your day, how was it?”

Conversation carries on, assuaging Kuroo’s concerns until they shrink to specks. Though some note of concern lingers, it’s calmed by the confidence that this deadline had been the problem, the stressor, and if there was anything else surely Akaashi would speak on it when ready.

They fall into bed some time later as they always do: Akaashi peeling back the covers neatly while Kuroo sets the alarm clock. “Did you need an earlier alarm for tomorrow? Or can I set the usual?”

“Hm?” Akaashi hums, “the usual is fine, Tetsu, thank you.” Kuroo nods, and sets the time as rote. He crawls into his side of the bed, arms open in invitation; after a moment, Akaashi turns out the lamp beside him and shuffles into Kuroo’s embrace for the first time in days. Content, they drift to sleep.


	2. Melancholy Kaleidoscope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akaashi sorts his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Happy belated holidays! Once again this is very short, though I hope you’ll stick with it!

Nobody wants to hear a sob story. Nobody wants to hear how your job is stressing you out, or how you aren’t sleeping, or how your fiancé doesn’t need you anymore , or any of the myriad other burdens weighing on one Akaashi Keiji. Nobody wants to hear it, least of all himself, so he grits his teeth and plays his role to the best of his ability. 

There’s a fire burning cold in his veins, spreading little by little, day by day, with every sleepless night and urgent memo, with every time he comes home to absolutely nobody in need of him. Even Jiji barely needs him, could replace him easily with an automatic kibble dispenser. He’s freezing, he’s frozen, he’s burning out and burning up. 

He wakes early in the morning to the vibration of a text, a deadline moved up even further, and the sun long from rising. He dresses in the dark, thankful to his past self for keeping everything organized and neatly placed by colours and type so he can fetch items with little light. He shuts the drawer and a drowsy drawl reaches him from the bed: “Keiji? What time is it?”

Akaashi shifts his focus into his fiancé, he pauses, pulls up his steady front and replies, “early, you can go back to sleep.” He steps closer now his eyes have adjusted better to the darkness, pets gently at Kuroo’s bedhead while he tries to check the clock. 

“You’re going?” Kuroo asks, eyes swelling to saucer wide, “it’s so early, come back to bed.” His puppy eyes stir a genuine warmth in the cockles of Akaashi’s heart, briefly displacing the harsher arctic flame, Akaashi smiles. 

“My deadline was moved up,” he explains, “I’ll call you in a few hours.” He tucks the blankets back around the older man, lingering a hand briefly in his hair. “See you tonight, Tetsu.” He tears himself away, refusing to see what expression follows in his wake as he exits. The rapidly familiarizing snap of discontent, of inferiority, cracks through his veins with every step. 

The train ride is dismal and crowded. Every jostle against all the other office-bound rats grates at Akaashi’s nerves, nails the urge to cry further into his skin. He can’t cry, not in public at least, and more importantly he  _ won’t  _ cry, because nobody needed to hear a sob story from a mediocre burn out. Gone are the days of being needed and being a part of something, what is he now? Another cog in a corporate clock? Another body to take up space on the train?

Lost in such dreary thoughts, the train makes its way to Akaashi’s stop, though the train of thought fails to find a similar landing, instead careening dangerously into morose territory as he walks up the steps into the office. A draining day follows, marked by memos and messages and sheets of paper changing hands, despite this, in the end a small tingle of satisfaction roots itself knowing the job is done. 

The train home is just as dismal as it’s morning counterpart, but somehow, Akaashi steps more lightly from station to train to station to home. Jiji greets him with a purr as the black cat winds around his ankles, Akaashi smiles and pets the small head. He floats through the entryway. 

The bathroom light flicks on, and Akaashi observes the face in the mirror. He looks tired, to put it simply, stress quivers in the tight line of his jaw, his drawn brow, a darkness mists around his eyes. He shakes his head, once, twice; a sharp slap echoes in the small space as twin roses bloom in his cheeks. It’s time to get his head on straight, he decides, it’s time to  _ say something,  _ anything, something to chase away the slow festering melancholy and reset the picture in his head. 

He schemes as he changes out of work clothes, develops a script for himself as he feeds the cat and preps side dishes. He’ll say something, for sure, air his grievances and tell Tetsurou exactly what’s on his mind and why:  _ Tetsurou, I feel like you don’t need me anymore, that’s fine, but please do tell me upfront if you no longer want to be together.  _ Or:  _ I feel like no one needs me anymore,  _ or:  _ do you still love me? _

He steels himself as the lock clicks open, as the door pushes in. “Welcome home,” he says, two heartbeats late, and his resolve crumbles. A smile to break a steel shield, a kiss to break his convictions hurtling towards confrontation. He says nothing, can’t, after all, no one want to hear a sob story right?

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to yell at me about anything either in the comment box below or on Tumblr


End file.
